Most of the Time
by angelically-devilish
Summary: WINNER OF THE TWIN EXCHANGE AUGUST 2010 CHALLENGE - "What do you mean, MOST of the time?" he demanded. She smiled ingenuously. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Sirius, darling" she said sweetly. Sequel to 'A Late Night Rendezvous'


_**A/N: **This is my submission to the Twin Exchange August Challenge!_

_Prompt: Bat Bogey Hex_

_Pairing: Sirius/Hermione_

_Quote: "How did I miss that?"_

_Theme: Ginny Weasley, born August 11, 1981  
_

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**Most of the Time**

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"Sirius! Stop it!"

"Hmm…no, I don't think I will."

"We're going to get caught!"

"Doesn't that just add to the experience?"

Hermione Granger tried to protest but the sinfully delicious man currently doing unspeakable things to her body ripped the words of warning from her lips as she melted into him. Catching those beautiful lips with hers, Hermione allowed his tongue to have its way with hers as she felt her body being pressed into the wall by his larger, ridiculously gorgeous one.

True, they were in a broom cupboard not ten feet away from a large gathering of Weasleys, half of whom had no idea the two had been carrying on with a torrid, toe-curling affair for a year, but as Sirius's hands slid under her shirt to caress her goose-bumped skin, Hermione found that there was very little her brain could comprehend at the moment, not the least of which being that they were seconds away from being caught in a very compromising position by a very overbearing redheaded matriarch.

"Sirius," she hissed as his fingers skilfully bypassed the buttons of her jeans to wriggle into her panties and cup her heat. "Sirius, stop."

"You don't mean that," he purred, his lips travelling down her neck as his fingers curled against her.

She whimpered, but what very little sense she was able to retain in the moment screamed at her to stop this before they got carried away.

"Do _you_ want Molly to catch us?" she asked, her body responding to his probing fingers in spite of her brain shouting at her to stop.

He sighed, slowly removing his hands from her and taking a step back.

"No, that's something I really don't feel like explaining at the current juncture," he admitted. His eyes darkened, however, as he brought his hands to his lips. "Doesn't stop me from wanting to feel you cum all over my cock, though, princess."

Hermione swallowed hard as she watched him lick her juices from his fingers, his eyes closed as he savoured her taste as if she were some exquisite dish. Her body shivered, her thoughts tumbling to the way her body always seemed to hum and quiver whenever she was around him. She wanted nothing more than to let him take her right then and there, fucking her senseless as only he could in that tiny broom cupboard.

She knew, however, that luck never tended to be on her side, especially where Mrs. Weasley was concerned.

"I'll make it worth your while when we get home," she breathed, her eyes narrowing sensually before winking at him.

She heard him growl under his breath, taking a step toward her once more.

"You don't even know all the things I'm going to do with you the moment I get you alone, kitten," he breathed before catching her lips in one longer, passionate kiss, stealing her breath away.

One year. Actually, it had been just over a year. Just over a year since they had learned – rather completely – of the desire they held for one another. Hermione couldn't help but smirk every time she remembered the night. The heat of the mid-summer's evening, the gritty naughtiness of the admittedly-public defacing, and the absolutely mind-blowing pleasure of it all was only a preview of the whirlwind romance the two had undertaken. Sirius was insatiable, and Hermione fed the fire with a voracious appetite of her own. They seemed absolutely perfect for each other in that respect.

It didn't help, however, that Mrs. Weasley didn't know, nor that the determined woman seemed bent on thrusting any and every available Weasley male Hermione's way in order to ensure Hermione's place on the Weasley family tree.

Up until that evening, Sirius had thought the situation hilarious. Most of the men Mrs. Weasley had chosen had been completely ill-suited – either exactly like Ron in all the way Hermione hated or exactly like Hermione in all the ways Hermione hated. That night, however, Mrs. Weasley seemed like she had reached the end of her patience.

So she had called in reinforcements.

The Prewitt family had responded full-force, and when Hermione and Sirius had walked into the Burrow – slightly breathless after a last-minute quickie in the foyer of Grimmauld Place – Mrs. Weasley had shoved a drink into Hermione's hand and pushed her in the direction of the resident Prewitt heartthrob, the depressingly gay Eamon Prewitt. This wouldn't have bothered Hermione so much, as she knew and enjoyed Eamon's company, but the apologetic look on Eamon's face had filled her stomach with dread and when she rounded the corner, she had locked eyes with a dark-haired, drop-dead gorgeous wizard whose pale blue eyes seemed fixed on Hermione with a single-minded concentration.

And thus was her introduction to Cillian Sullivan, fellow healer at Dublin's St. Patrick Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.

He was witty and charming, intelligent yet humble – everything Eamon was without the inconvenience of being homosexual. Throughout the entire introduction, Hermione could feel Cillian's eyes gazing attentively into hers while Sirius's eyes scorched the back of her head.

It wasn't long before Sirius had silently pulled Hermione into the broom cupboard to snog her half to death while trying desperately to remind her that she was not, under any circumstances, to consider giving away that which was very clearly his.

"We should probably go out. Molly's going to be wondering where I've disappeared to, if she isn't looking already," Hermione said, pressing her ear to the door for sounds of the approaching woman.

"She won't come this way. I paid Fred and George a galleon each to keep her away from this part of the house," Sirius replied, leaning casually against the wall.

Hermione arched her eyebrow.

"A moment alone with me is worth two galleons? I don't know whether to be insulted by such a low price or honoured that you parted with the gold at all."

A lazy, arrogant smirk crossed the animagus's face.

"I would have paid a million times more if I had thought for a moment you would have let me go through with the plans I had set for us," he replied.

She blinked.

"You _knew_ I would try and stop you?" she asked.

"Of course. This isn't Grimmauld Place, and as much as I really don't have much respect for the blustering windbag, _you_ clearly respect Molly and wouldn't want to deface her house in any way."

"So…so why did you…I mean…"

"I couldn't bear to see you flirting with him, kitten."

"I was _not_ flirting with him."

Sirius rolled his eyes.

"Oh no?" he said, before starting an oddly accurate mimic of her discussion with the attractive healer. "_'You wrote your NEWT Potions essay on potion cures for Muggle ailments? So did I! It's so refreshing to know that people in the medical community are thinking about the Muggleborns for a change.'_"

Hermione's eyes narrowed.

"Just because I was showing an interest in something he did that I _also_ happen to be passionate about doesn't mean I was _flirting_ with him. And if I thought any conversation we had would end in something other than sex, I would have an intellectual discussion with _you_ from time to time."

"Are you saying I can't have an intellectual discussion with you?"

"No, I'm saying _we_ can't have an intellectual discussion without one of us pouncing on the other."

He smirked.

"I'm glad you take your share of the responsibility in the pouncing department, kitten," he said.

"Gladly. I _do_ enjoy it most of the time."

"So do I…wait. _Most_ of the time?"

She smirked, but before she could respond, a very loud voice sounded from the other side of the door.

"No, Mum, I have _no_ idea where 'Mione could be hiding," one of the twins said.

"Have you tried outside?" the other asked.

"By the apple trees?"

"In the orchard?"

"In this heat?" came Mrs. Weasley's sceptical reply. "Honestly, boys, sometimes I wonder where you got your common sense because you very clearly did not inherit it from me."

Sirius snorted, but one look from Hermione silenced him.

"Why don't we go out and check, eh Mum?"

"Yes, why don't all three of us go."

"Nothing to see here."

"Just an old broom cupboard. Hardly worth looking in."

"Fred, please don't manhandle me. I'm still your mother."

"Of _course_ you are, Mum."

"Right this way, Your Majesty."

The sound of footsteps fading away made Hermione release the breath she had been holding and loosen her grip on the brass door handle.

Sirius, however, did not seem content to end their conversation just yet.

"What do you mean, _most_ of the time?" he demanded.

She smiled ingenuously.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Sirius, darling," she said sweetly, and before he could respond she opened the door and skipped out into the deserted hallway.

"Hermione! There you are. I've been looking everywhere for you," Mrs. Weasley cried when the bushy-haired brunette entered the kitchen, casting a thankful glance at the pair of twins that flanked their mother.

"Well, to be fair, Granger, she didn't look _everywhere_," Fred said with a knowing smirk.

"Yes, we tried to avoid all those troublesome nooks and crannies that are so common in this house," George added, an equally knowing grin upon his attractive face.

"Honestly, boys, I hardly think Hermione was lurking in some broom cupboard," Mrs. Weasley scolded before casting Hermione a broad, hopeful grin. "So? What do you think?"

"Of what?" Hermione asked, sliding easily over to the counter to pour herself a glass of wine while quietly yet effectively placing a well-deserved elbow into the ribcage of the twin closest to her.

"Of Cillian, of course! When Eamon told me about him I was nearly beside myself. I know you're a bit attached to Eamon, but considering you two have been friends for over a year now without any mention of dating I assumed you just didn't feel the sparks. But I was so hoping…even though he isn't technically a Weasley _or_ a Prewitt…but Beatrice tells me that Cillian is as much a part of the family as Eamon is…"

Mrs. Weasley continued to chatter about the numerous accomplishments the young Irish healer had managed to achieve, but Hermione had long-since learned the art of feigning attention while blocking the woman out at the same time. As much as she loved Mrs. Weasley – and would forever consider the woman a surrogate mother – she had realized her first year out of Hogwarts that the incorrigible matchmaking would never cease until Hermione put her foot down – an obstacle the intelligent Muggleborn was not yet prepared to face.

"So?" Mrs. Weasley's voice finally broke through Hermione's thoughts of all the possible naughtiness that would occur in Grimmauld Place the moment she and her boyfriend stepped through the floo.

"Oh, well, he's very nice," Hermione said with a smile, hoping to seem noncommittal. The action, however, seemed to have a reverse effect as Mrs. Weasley's eyes lit up.

"I _knew_ you'd like him. You and Sirius are the only single ones left, you know. Now that Ron's found Luna, it's almost as if everything's falling into place."

"Yes, because if there's anything this family needs, it's the sanity that the Lovegoods can so clearly provide," George said with a nod of mock sincerity.

"They'll just add the 'fun' to the dysfunction in our family," Fred agreed.

"Now boys, you know how fond I am of Luna…though I do wish she'd stop chasing the garden gnomes, they're difficult enough to get rid of without someone encouraging them. Luna!" And with that Mrs. Weasley bustled out of the kitchen door to stop the quirky blonde whose wild hair and long, multi-coloured skirt were flying behind her as she chased down the giggling beasts.

"So…any plans on telling her you're unable to attend the inevitable Sullivan-Granger wedding?" Fred asked as Hermione watched Luna ignore all of Mrs. Weasley's gentle request.

"I'd hate to be the one to tell her that you won't be able to make it because you're off shagging an ex-con," George added.

"Though, now that we think about it—"

"—it could be bloody funny."

"As much as I live to entertain you, boys, I think I'll be able to let Mrs. Weasley know of that fact myself should the discussion ever come up," Hermione replied, turning to her ginger-haired tormenters.

"I'm amazed you've been able to keep it secret for so long. I thought the jig was up once Ginny found out," George said.

"Once I found out what?" the youngest Weasley asked as she entered the kitchen, her arms filled with dinner napkins.

"About the swotty little know-it-all and her playboy paramour," Fred said, making kissy faces at Hermione.

"Oh, do grow up, Fred," Ginny said, putting the napkins on the table and turning to the trio. "Speaking of your canine companion, Hermione, he just gave me the third degree about some nonsense involving the words _most of the time_?"

The redhead arched a meaningful eyebrow and Hermione chuckled.

"He was just feeling a bit insecure about Cillian, that's all. I just…capitalized on the infrequent emotion."

"Yes, well, as much as I _do_ love to see the man squirm, he does look a bit pathetic."

George arched an eyebrow.

"_Sirius Black_ looking _pathetic_?" he asked incredulously.

"In _our_ lifetime?" Fred added.

"It has been known to happen, boys, yes," Hermione said, glancing out of the kitchen into the drawing room where Sirius was leaning against the mantelpiece sulking. "Oh, he _is_ such a child sometimes."

"Are you sure you don't mean _most of the time_, 'Mione?" Ginny asked, an angelic look on her face.

The bushy-haired brunette cast her friend an arched eyebrow.

"I could go into a few things involving that concept, Miss Weasley. I don't suppose you'd want Harry in on that conversation, would you?" she replied, her own angelic look making Ginny blush to her roots.

Fred and George looked from one stubbornly silent girl to the other.

"Fred, I do believe we're missing out on some deliciously naughty joke," George said, leaning against the counter.

"I believe you're right, dear brother, and I for one am quite keen on hearing the dirty details," Fred replied, also getting comfortable against the kitchen counter.

"You'll know nothing and like it," Ginny said, brown eyes flashing warning to her brothers that told them that one more word and she would unleash the mother of all Bat-Bogey hexes. Hermione had so smile slightly as the twins' faces paled slightly. There were only two people in their family who could cause such a reaction in the two mischief makers, and Hermione enjoyed the fact that both of them were their female relatives.

"'Mione," a voice said, and they looked up to see Eamon enter the room. "Um…Sirius is glaring at Cillian like he wants to set his eyebrows on fire. I know you want your…er…_relationship_ to remain a secret but I don't know how long it will remain that way if Cillian decks him in the jaw. He's an amateur boxer, you know."

He, too, arched a meaningful eyebrow and Hermione let out a sigh.

"Of course he is," she said under her breath before looking into the drawing room where Bill was subtly trying to manoeuvre himself between Sirius and his intended target. "It would serve him right to get kicked around a bit. He's being an utter child about this whole situation. He _knows_ I'm going home with him at the end of the evening and I don't understand…"

"Hermione Granger, what are you still doing in this kitchen?" Mrs. Weasley said, coming back through the garden door looking slightly windswept with a gleeful Luna in tow. "Don't keep Cillian waiting."

"Yes, 'Mione, don't keep ickle Cillian waiting with the big bad wolf," George taunted.

"Oh, is Remus here?" Luna asked, peeking into the drawing room. "I meant to ask him last time I saw him about the application of grindylow mucus on warts."

Hermione closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath before opening her eyes again and casting her odd blonde friend a smile.

"Remus and Tonks are arriving later," she said simply, silently sympathizing with her former professor's upcoming plight. "And I was just going into the drawing room, Mrs. Weasley."

"Here," the older woman said, thrusting a glass of firewhisky into her hands. "Beatrice tells me that Cillian is a connoisseur of barrel-smoked firewhisky. Tell him that this is from a twenty-five year old bottle Arthur received from the Minister of Magic last year."

Fred gave a low whistle.

"Breaking out the big guns, aren't we, Mum?" he asked.

Mrs. Weasley brushed her hand through the air as if to dismiss it.

"Any way to jumpstart a conversation, Fred."

Hermione sighed, and walked back into the drawing room.

"Cillian," she said, walking over to the handsome man. "Mrs. Weasley told me to give this to you. It's a twenty-five year old barrel-smoked firewhisky Mr. Weasley received from the Minister of Magic. She wants to know what you think."

He shot her a sexy grin, his fingers touching hers as he took the glass. Out of her peripheral, Hermione was sure she saw smoke escaping Sirius's ears.

"She doesn't miss a trick, does she, tha' Mrs. Weasley," he said jovially, taking a tentative sip of the beverage. Hermione watched as he closed his eyes, savouring the taste before he opened them again, the same sexy smirk on his face.

"Exquisite," he said. "And more so when given by a beautiful lady."

Hermione saw Bill forcibly stop Sirius from striding over, and she felt an evil thought enter her mind as she gave an easy, heart-stopping smile of her own to the Irishman.

"You do turn a lovely phrase, Mr. Sullivan," she purred, eyes glittering with amusement as she saw Sirius freeze. "And the pleasure was all mine."

Bill was no match as Sirius stalked over, but it was Hermione that he stood glaring down at, not Cillian.

"A word, Miss Granger," he said through gritted teeth, and he didn't wait for her to respond as he grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the room.

Seconds later, Hermione felt her back pressed against the same stone wall in the same broom cupboard with the same devastatingly handsome man pinning her body with his.

"I'll show you _most of the time_," he growled, and before she could protest his lips were on hers, kissing her deeply as if he wanted to crawl inside her, his hands tugging at her shirt as he lifted her effortlessly into his arms, her legs automatically winding around his lithe torso.

Hermione melted, hands diving into the animagus's thick raven hair, tongues duelling as she fed from his lust, swallowing it and going eagerly back for more. She had never known Sirius to be insecure, or jealous, and considering she had a plethora of male friends she considered it a blessing. As his hands adeptly removed her bra, however, she was seriously considering looking into finding new, attractive male friends if it meant garnering this reaction from him.

"You're mine," Sirius breathed in her ear, his hands cupping her breasts as his fingers flicked nimbly over her hard nipples. "Mine to touch, mine to hold, mine to take…"

All she could do was moan in response as his hands slid down her stomach, pulling at her jeans and tugging them and her panties down. With her legs around his waist, there was very little movement for manoeuvring, but Sirius was a resourceful man and she choked on a long moan as his fingers delved into her core.

"Si-Sirius…" she gasped, his fingers curling to touch the spot deep within her that only he had managed to locate. "Sirius…the door…silencing charms…"

"No," he hissed, his thumb caressing her clit with knowing precision. "No, I want everyone out there to know, to hear you scream my name."

"You don't know…you can't…Mrs. Weasley…"

"I don't give a fuck," he ground out, pushing her legs back down to the ground and all but ripping her jeans and underwear off her body. In spite of her protests she didn't stand idly. Her fingers tore his t-shirt off his body, hands caressing the shadow of ink on his toned chest before running down to the edge of his jeans, sliding the belt out of its buckle and pushing the cloth down over his hips, releasing his large, weeping erection from its confines.

"Tell me you want me," Sirius whispered in her ear, his free hand moving up to caress her cheek, pushing a curl around her ear. "Tell me."

She looked up into his eyes, armed with a cheeky remark, but she swallowed it as she saw the raw vulnerability in those silver orbs. It was almost too much, but his hand held her head in place and she couldn't look away. In that moment, she felt sorry for flirting – even mildly – with another man and desperate to apologize.

"Please," she whispered, running her hands up his chest and winding her arms around his neck. "Please take me, Sirius. I love you."

He kissed her again, hard and needful, and she felt the air leave her lungs as he slid inside her deeply. She hadn't realized how much he wanted him until he thrust inside her, sliding smoothly along the walls of her heat to rest fully inside her.

"Yessssss…" he hissed, his forehead on the top of her head as she lifted herself into his arms, legs locking behind his back. "Merlin, woman…God, I love you so much…"

Their movements were frantic, quick and heavy with desire and emotion. His hips rocked hard against her as he kissed her deeply, swallowing all of her moans of ecstasy so the only sound was the soft slap of flesh on flesh. They had had many clandestine encounters, most in inappropriate places at even more inappropriate moments, but there was something different about this one – something more intimate. She clung to him, feeling his pulse through her entire body as if somewhere in their lovemaking they had literally become one body – heart, mind, and soul.

"Oh Jesus…" she cried softly as his thrusts quickened, deepening within her and caressing her from the inside out. Her body hummed, nerves thrumming with the anticipation of the pleasure that only he could give her. A pleasure that never ceased to amaze her every time.

There was no "most of the time." There never had been.

"Cum for me, kitten," he breathed, one hand hiking her leg up over his hip even more, changing the angle so he thrust against that spot every time. "Cum for me, love."

Hermione let herself go and the exquisite, mind-bending rush of pleasure coursed through her body like a wildfire. Her nails dug into his shoulders and her vocal chords disobeyed the quiet pleading of her mind as she gave a loud cry of ecstasy. Her back arched, toes curling as she bent her head against his body, teeth sinking into his skin as if it was the only thing she could do to keep from losing her composure completely and bringing the house down with her cries.

Whether it was the strength of her orgasm, her walls clamping around him, or the feel of her teeth in his flesh, Sirius gave a loud shout, his hips pumping furiously as his body shook, spurt after spurt of warmth filling her and she knew at that moment – beyond a reasonable doubt – that this man was the man she would not part with.

They stood there for a few moments longer, bodies heaving as they slowly came down from their highs. It took a second or two before Hermione felt Sirius's lips on her skin, his breath warm as he gently slid the full cushions of perfection up her neck and over her jaw, brushing them ever-so-gently against hers, kissing her as only a lover could.

"Marry me," he whispered softly in her ear, nipping at the lobe. "Marry me and stop me from wanting to rip the head off of every man you ever look at."

Hermione gave a slight giggle at his words, her eyes shining with love and happiness. It wasn't the most elegant propose, but then again, she wouldn't have expected anything else from Sirius Black.

"Yes," she replied, and smiled as he looked into her eyes, searching for her sincerity. "Oh yes, you silly man, what other answer could it be?"

They kissed again, deeply, lips still attached as they tried to straighten themselves up. They had barely regained a decent sense of modesty before the door was ripped open and a very angry redheaded woman glared at them from the opening.

"Sirius Orion Black!" she shrieked, and Hermione was sure if Eamon and Bill weren't holding her back, Mrs. Weasley would have physically assaulted the grinning animagus.

"We tried to keep her away for as long as we could," George said from around his fuming mother.

"But she's…er…persistent," Fred finished.

"I want you out of this house!" Mrs. Weasley screamed at Sirius. "I want you out of this house for…for…_defiling_ that innocent young…"

"Molly," Sirius said mildly, reaching back to take Hermione's hand. It was only through that touch that she knew the tension he carried in his body as he watched the red-faced matriarch. "While I appreciate that we may have gotten a little carried away, I would think…"

"_A little carried away!_" Mrs. Weasley screamed, tugging so hard against her captors and Bill and Eamon jolted slightly and grasped her even firmer. "You've turned her into a scarlet woman! Who will want to marry her now that she's nothing but a seduced harlot?"

"I will, and I am, and I'd thank you not to refer to the future mother of my children in that manner," Sirius said firmly.

There was a moment of utter silence. Mrs. Weasley stood frozen, the wall of redheaded men surrounding her equally as still. Hermione clutched Sirius's hand a little harder, unsure just what the reaction would be but knowing that she was glad her wand hand was free.

"Bloody fucking finally!"

Everyone turned to see Ginny moving forward, muscling through her brothers as she appeared next to her shell-shocked mother.

"Is it true?" she demanded, her eyes on Hermione. "Are you engaged?"

"Well," Hermione said, cheeks flushing at the sudden attention. "It just happened, so…"

"I knew it!" Ginny squealed, interrupting Hermione as she turned toward her brothers. "Pay up! It's been a year, two months, and three days, and I said it would happen just a week after my birthday, so pay up!"

Hermione watched, flabbergasted, as every single Weasley and Prewitt – with the exception of Mrs. Weasley – begrudgingly dug into their pockets.

"Ginevra Weasley!" Mrs. Weasley cried, finding her voice and rounding on her daughter. "You _knew_?"

"Of course I knew, Mum, everyone bloody knew," Ginny replied.

Mrs. Weasley looked at Sirius and Hermione and blinked.

"How did I miss that?" she asked, more to herself than anyone else.

"Dunno. Really, Mum, they've been shagging like bunnies for over a year now," Fred joked.

"Yeah. Your maternal superpowers must have missed it," George added, cringing as Bill smacked him soundly on the head.

Hermione looked at her fiancé, who looked back at her with an easy smile.

"How's it feel, kitten, to officially…er…come out of the closet?" he asked, eyebrow arching teasingly.

She chuckled, shaking her head.

"Not exactly the way I envisioned it, but I suppose I can't control things all the time."

His eyes twinkled.

"Only _most of the time_?" he asked.

She smiled adoringly up at him.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Sirius, darling," she purred. "I've never had that problem with you."

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_Thanks for reading! Vote for me if you liked it!_

_Voting starts August 20th, 2010 - link is on my profile!  
_


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